


Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

by QueenSabriel



Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer, Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Demons, M/M, Murder, some violence, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7100173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSabriel/pseuds/QueenSabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teens are turning up dead in transit stations around L.A. and whether Chloe likes it or not, John and Lucifer decide to step in. However, as it proves to be more than just the work of a human serial killer, Lucifer finds himself the target of the one being in existence who sees him as direct competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Always Something

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Нет покоя грешникам](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858064) by [DarkMoska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMoska/pseuds/DarkMoska)



At barely past eight in the morning the pavement was already starting to radiate a white hot heat. Lucifer wrinkled his nose in distaste as he stepped out of his car, a plastic cup of iced coffee sweating condensation in one hand. Before him was a not unfamiliar sight; police tape cordoning off the entrance to a Metro station, four squad cars, the coroner's van, a bustle of officers and of course, in the middle of it, Chloe Decker standing with her phone to her ear. She shot Lucifer a vaguely annoyed look as he approached.  

"Good morning, detective!" Lucifer said when she put her phone back in her pocket. He held out the coffee. "Thought you could use this." 

Chloe accepted the drink but she was still frowning. "A nineteen-year-old kid was murdered last night, Lucifer, I don't think it's exactly a 'good' morning." 

"Oh...indeed not," he said, grimacing and glancing around. "He was found in the station?" 

"Yeah," Chloe nodded, "attendants came across the body about an hour ago." 

Lucifer shot her a sideways look. "I assume there's something strange, otherwise you wouldn't have felt the need to wake me up." 

"The body was covered in hundreds of cuts," Chloe said. "The ME thinks he probably bled to death. That's not all of it either, he had this notebook next to him..." She took an evidence bag off the roof of her car, holding it out to Lucifer. "You seem like you might have an idea about these sort of...occult type things." 

Inside the bag was a small, worn black journal. Lucifer turned it over in his hands, then had to bite back a laugh when he saw the silver pentagram embossed on the cover. "I think our victim probably bought this on the clearance rack at Hot Topic." 

"Probably," Chloe agreed, the corner of her mouth twitching. "But look inside." 

Lucifer slid the book out and thumbed through the pages. At first it looked like something that any run-of-the-mill wanna-be Satanist might copy off the internet, and yet the Latin was startlingly accurate, the sigils and wards oddly familiar...He closed the journal and returned it to its bag without comment. "I take it you don't have any suspects yet?" 

"Not really," Chloe said, rubbing her forehead. She took a drink of the coffee, then nodded her police cruiser parked a few feet away. "We have a guy in custody, he was poking around the scene when we arrived. Just a little too suspicious to let him go – forty-something, British, asking a lot of strange questions..." 

Raising his eyebrows, Lucifer leaned in towards her. "Does he - by _any_ chance – have sort of dirty blonde hair?" 

"Ye-eah...?" 

"Trench coat? Smokes like a chimney? Looks a bit like a weather-beaten Sting?" Lucifer pressed. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that this was too much of a coincidence. The look of surprise Chloe fixed him with was enough to tell him everything he needed to know.  

Cursing under his breath, Lucifer strode over to the car and yanked the back door open, leaning over to peer inside. "Normally," he said, all suspicions instantly confirmed, "The sight of you in handcuffs would get me all hot and bothered, but it is far too early for this nonsense - what are _you_ doing here?" 

"Having a tea party, what does it look like?" John Constantine shot back, before cracking a grin at him. "Morningstar. A pleasant surprise." 

Out of the corner of his eye Lucifer saw Chloe jogging over. "Lucifer! What - "  

"Ah. Chloe Decker, meet John Constantine," Lucifer said, leaning back a little and gesturing between the two of them. "John, my friend Detective Chloe Decker, LAPD." 

John winked at Chloe. "We met." 

"Why am I even surprised," Chloe said, rolling her eyes. "Of course. Of course you know each other." 

"Mmm, yes, in _all_ senses of the word," Lucifer said, which prompted a snort of laughter from John. "Though I can also vouch that John probably did not kill your victim." 

""Probably'?"  

"Definitely," John cut in. "If I can speak for myself, I'll tell you that I'm here for the exact same reason the police called a detective in first thing; this _is_ _n’t_ the first teen to turn up sliced to death in the past month. The first was a girl who you found at a bus stop, same wounds, same cause of death." 

Putting one hand on the top of the car door, Chloe leaned in towards him. "How did you know that?" 

"He probably found it on the internet, Detective," Lucifer said. "It isn't that hard to dig up police reports nowadays, you should know that. But I _can_ tell you that if there's anyone whose help you want, it's John's. Did you bring that journal over?" 

Chloe held up her hands, both to stop him and to pre-empt John who had perked up at the mention of the journal.  She was quiet for a long moment, clearly weighing the situation with not a small amount of frustration. Finally she pointed at John. " _You_ are still coming in for questioning, and _you_ ," she gestured at Lucifer, "can come if you want but please don't make me regret this." 

"Great!" Lucifer wiggled his fingers at John. "See you at the station then." He stepped back as Chloe closed the car door again, then tilted his head at her. "You look like you have a question." 

"Again, I'm probably going to regret this, but -" Chloe crossed her arms, "How do you know this guy, exactly?" 

Lucifer shrugged. "We travel in some of the same circles. You could probably say I know him socially and professionally...and you can definitely say I know him _biblically_...oh don't look so shocked, detective! I swing all kinds of ways."  

"I wasn't -!" Chloe glanced back at the car, though through the tinted windows it was impossible to see inside. "That's not what surprised me. I just wouldn't peg him as your kind of boyfriend material." 

"Oh, my dear," Lucifer said, laughing. "He's definitely not. No, ‘friends with benefits' might be the more applicable title, though I use the term 'friend' loosely, he _has_ tried to steal from me, but that's just his way..." 

Slowly shaking her head, Chloe started to circle around to the driver's side of her car. "You're doing a real great job of selling this guy, Lucifer." 

*** 

John had been in police interrogation rooms before, and they never got more interesting. If you had seen one, you'd seen them all, and this one was the same four walls, the same table, same chair, same one-way-mirror as all the rest. He drummed his fingers on the table as he waited for Lucifer and his detective friend to reappear. 

Luckily he didn't have to wait long. The door opened and Detective Decker led the way in, her face unreadable. Lucifer followed, his face decidedly smug. The detective had a small black book in her hands, which she set down just within John's reach on the table.  

"What can you tell me about this?" She asked, choosing to remain standing. Lucifer dropped into one of the chairs across from John and put his feet on the table, though the detective pushed them down without moving her gaze from John. She gestured at the book again. "Other than the fact that it's from Hot Topic." 

John picked up the book to flip through it - a bit awkwardly as he was still cuffed to the table – chewing his lip thoughtfully as he did. "Passages from _The Book of the Dead_ ," he said after a moment. "And from Aleister Crowley's works. Latin incantations. Very old school necromantic and summoning rituals." He closed the book and pressed it between both hands for a moment.  

"So what?" Decker said. "He might have been involved in some kind of Satanic cult?"  

Lucifer snorted, getting to his feet and shaking his head slowly as he started to pace behind her.  

"Could be," John said. "I would say either way he'd gotten into something he couldn't handle. It's the wounds that tipped me off, really, but the notebook confirmed it – have you heard of the demon Calibraxis?"  

Behind the detective, Lucifer came to a dead stop and turned, eyes fixed on John. Decker frowned, shaking her head.  

"He's known as the Lord of Blades," John said. "His _modus_ _operandi_ is to cut his victims, over and over, providing endless torture without any death. That's in Hell, of course. Up here I assume the torture isn't endless, though who knows where the poor bloke’s soul is now." 

Rubbing her forehead, Detective Decker sighed heavily. "Again, what are you saying? That this was some sort of sacrifice in this...Calibraxis' name? Someone trying to imitate him?" 

"Come on, Detective," John said coaxingly. "You've got Lucifer Morningstar literally looking over your shoulder. I'm not saying this was an imitator; I'm saying some sorry children summoned Calibraxis himself." 

"Right. Okay." She gave him an unamused look and turned towards the door. "I'm going to ask someone to look into any cult activity in the area that might be connected to this...Calibraxis figure. Or anyone using that name as a handle. If I leave you two alone for a minute will you behave yourselves?" 

John fixed her with his most charming smile. "I'd be more inclined to if I could have a cigarette." 

"You can't smoke in here," Decker said flatly before stepping outside and closing the door behind her.  

The minute she was gone Lucifer sat back down, drawing the chair close to the table and leaning towards John. "You can't be serious," he said lowly. "What's Calibraxis doing topside and murdering teenagers in L.A.?" 

"Beats me, mate," John said, folding his hands. "You're his old boss. Though before you go looking too surprised think long and hard about how many people have been wasted by demons in Los Angeles." 

"Calibraxis is not the type of demon a child with a Ouija board could accidentally summon," Lucifer hissed. "If he's here it's because one of the higher ups in Hell sent him." 

John smiled, mostly because it was such an unusual delight to see Lucifer this flustered. "What's the matter, luv, are you worried?" 

"A little, yes," Lucifer admitted, but before he could continue the door opened and Detective Decker returned. Casting them both a warning look she walked around to unlock John's handcuffs.  

He sighed gratefully, stretching his arms and flexing his wrists. 

"You're not completely off the hook," she said, gesturing at John with her keys. "And you better not be planning on leaving the city for a bit." 

John held up his hands. "I'm telling you, detective, I want to figure this out as much as you do." 

"Yeah, and why _is_ that?" Decker asked. "You aren't a police officer. You're not related to either of these kids. What's your interest in this case?" 

"Call me an independent investigator of the infernal and the divine," John said.  

Decker gave him a bemused look. "I'd call you out of your mind if I hadn't been hanging around with Lucifer as long as I have." 

“Lucky me then.” John got to his feet. “Does this mean we’re done here?”  

“For now,” she said. “But I meant what I said about not leaving the city. You're still connected to and a possible suspect in an active homicide investigation and-“ 

Lucifer stepped in then, slinging an arm around John’s shoulders. “Yes yes my dear, I think he gets the idea. If you need him he’ll be at my place.” Completely ignoring the look she was giving them, he steered John out of the room and down the hall to collect his things 

*** 

Maze was just coming out of the store room with a crate of bottles when Lucifer and John came in through the back door of Lux. When she spotted them, she set the box down heavily and did her best to look highly unamused as she watched them approach.  

"Don't look so thrilled to see me, sweetheart," John said. "Might give a man ideas." 

Mazikeen sneered at him. "Keep talking like that, Constantine, I dare you." 

John smiled and leaned on the bar. "Fine, I'll change the subject. You hear anything about Calibraxis lately?" 

"Calibraxis?" She said, frowning and shooting a curious look at Lucifer.  

"Yes, you remember him, don't you?" Lucifer said. He perched on a stool next to John, reaching over the bar for three glasses. "Charming fellow. Probably the only being in Hell or Heaven who could best you in a knife fight." 

Maze snorted and crossed her arms. "In his dark and disgusting dreams maybe. Yeah I remember him, but I haven't heard anything recently...why?" 

"We think he might be loose in L.A," John said. "God help us." 

Making a slight face at the mention of his father's name, Lucifer poured whiskey into each of the three glasses, then slid one over to each John and Maze. He knew what Maze was going to say, and it would just be an echo of what he had told John at the police station – Calibraxis couldn't just be _accidentally_ summoned. If he was there, he had a reason. And Lucifer seriously doubted that reason was to randomly kill teenagers on the street.  

"You think he's here for you?" Maze asked, holding the glass to her cheek for a moment.  

Lucifer shook his head slowly, though it was an unconvincing gesture. "Why and how would he be? The First of the Fallen doesn't care what I do, so long as I don't try to take the throne of Hell back from him. _Which I don't even want!_ " The last comment was shouted in the direction of the floor, as though the current Lord of Hell could somehow hear him through it. 

"Maybe he's just collecting on some debts," John said. "Maybe Mister First just needs some more souls to munch on. There could be a million and one reasons why he's here." 

"Whatever the reason," Lucifer said, looking up. "I don't like that he's here. " 

John nodded. "So we stick with this one then, whether your detective friend likes it or not." 

"You two are going to get yourselves into trouble," Maze said, setting her empty glass in the sink.  

"Ta, darling," John said with a laugh. "It's what we do best." 

*** 

"What would college age kids make a deal with a devil for?" 

Lucifer turned from where he was pouring himself a drink at the sideboard. "What, other than the excruciatingly obvious?" 

John was sitting crosslegged in the middle of the bed, smoking, wearing his boxers and undershirt. A laptop was open in front of him. Looking up at Lucifer he took a long drag on his cigarette then said, "Humor me. Even the excruciatingly obvious. I'm sure you must've dealt with these types before." 

"Fame, money, sex," Lucifer said. "Not exactly in that order. Why?" 

"These two kids weren't anyone," John said, frowning. "No sudden celebrity status, lottery wins, scholarships, research grants...it might be safe to say they didn't make a deal with Calibraxis." 

Stirring his drink with one finger Lucifer walked over and sat on the bed next to John, peering at the computer screen for a moment. He shrugged. "They may have had personal issues they asked him to sort out. Maybe they both called hits on one another." He caught the skeptical look John threw him and chuckled. "Alright that might be a bit far fetched...why did you get into this stuff? Magic, I mean." 

John raised an eyebrow sharply at him. "You really wanna open that can of worms, Luci?" 

"How about this, I'll guess," Lucifer said, reaching over to shut the laptop. "Was it to impress a girl?" 

"Go fish," John said, leaning back on his hands.  

Lucifer took a ponderous drink. "A boy then?" But John shook his head. Lucifer took another drink. "Fame, money, and/or sex?" 

Again, John shook his head, looking unimpressed.  

"I've got it." Lucifer leaned over, looking John in the eye. "It's that lovely addictive personality of yours. You can never get enough of anything – like heroin, once you'd tried magic out of curiosity you couldn't stop. No matter what it took from you, your friends, your family, years of your life. You could never have enough of it." 

John gazed back at him for a long moment before saying, "Your foreplay technique could use a little work there, Morningstar." 

"Ah, but you're still in my bed, aren't you?" Lucifer said. 

"Am I?" John stood up and stretched. "Silly me." 

Lucifer looked up at him as he finished his drink and set the glass aside. “You’re not going anywhere.” 

John snorted. “That so?” 

“Mmm, you’re going to come right back over here so we can have a little fun between the sheets before you fall asleep,” Lucifer said. “Because that’s what you do; you keep coming back to the things that’ll hurt you the most. Though I suppose this is a new record for you, isn’t it? Sleeping with the same person three times. Or is that just because I haven’t died yet? I know you have a bit of the ‘kiss of death’ syndrome…” 

“Fuck you,” John said, lip curling.  

“ _Sin and vice and everything_ not _nice, that’s what Johnny is made of_ ,” Lucifer said, smiling. “Isn’t that right?” 

John dropped onto his hands and knees on the bed again, though it was more so he could look Lucifer in the eye furiously. At least that’s what he was telling himself. “Shut the fuck up, Lucifer. I mean it.” 

“Oooh, he bites,” Lucifer murmured. “This mean you want to be on top this time?” 

“I said ‘shut up,’” John growled, but he had leaned in closer, and when Lucifer looked like he was about to retort John kissed him, hard enough to push Lucifer down so he was leaning back on his elbow, other hand coming up to tangle in John’s hair.  

Lips still pressed to John’s, Lucifer let out a low chuckle. Then he drew back, eyes sparkling. “Now that’s more like it…” 

 


	2. Stop Dead

The relative quiet of the following morning was broken by the sound of Lucifer's phone buzzing on the nightstand. It turned out to be a text from Chloe asking if she could swing by in a bit, to which Lucifer responded yes of course she could, then hauled himself to his feet and headed for the bathroom. John still lay asleep on the bed.  

Twenty minutes later Chloe stepped into the apartment. Lucifer had gotten cleaned up and dressed, and even had breakfast set out in the lounge area though Chloe waved aside the offer of food and instead just let him pour her a cup of coffee.  

"So," Lucifer said as they settled across from one another. "Has there been another development in our case?" 

Chloe glanced up at him. "It's not 'our' case. And not exactly, I just -"  

John appeared in the bedroom doorway, causing Chloe to stop mid-sentence. He had shaven and dressed, and his hair was still a little damp from a shower. Lucifer looked up as well, watching John as he walked over to join them on the couches.  

"Well look at you," Lucifer said. "All cleaned up and presentable for once. Is that one of my shirts?" 

"It is," John said. He cast Lucifer a slight frown. "Seeing as at least three buttons are missing from mine, thanks to you, it's the least you can do." He smiled at Chloe. "Good morning, Detective." 

"Constantine," Chloe said, her gaze darting between the two of them. Then she gave herself a shake, cleared her throat and continued, "Anyway, as I was saying – it turns out our two victims went to the same college. I was going to head over there this morning to talk to some of the staff and see if I can dig up anything." 

Lucifer leaned forward a little. "Excellent, we'd love to tag along wouldn't we John?" 

Busy taking a drink of coffee, John gave them a thumbs up.  

"I didn't ask you two if you wanted to come," Chloe said.   

"Oh but we'd be on our best behavior!" Lucifer wheedled.  

Chloe looked about as far from believing that as it was possible to be. She set her now empty mug down, resting her elbows on her knees. "Why, exactly, should I bring you along?" 

"Cuz, we know what questions to ask," John said. "And if that's not enough, because if you don't bring us along we'll figure out what school it is and go ourselves. This way you can keep an eye on us. Keep your friends close." 

"And your slightly irritating acquaintances even closer?" Chloe finished. She pursed her lips and looked at him long and hard, then at Lucifer, who smiled, mostly because he could tell she was getting worn down. "You're taking your own car," she said finally. "And if I catch you running around telling students that there are literal demons killing their friends, I _will_ arrest both of you, do you understand?" 

Grinning at that, John lifted his coffee cup in a half toast. "Fair enough." 

*** 

There was an undeniable end-of-the-year feeling hanging over the campus when they arrived. Students sat around on the grassy lawns or in the shade of trees, studying for finals or watching their friends study for finals or procrastinating on any number of things. Chloe flat out refused to let John and Lucifer accompany her inside to speak to some of the administrators, though by John's reckoning it was brave of her to trust them unsupervised.  

Not that he was planning on getting into trouble, but trouble usually happened, planned or not.  

Lighting a cigarette, John wandered over towards what turned out to be a notice board stationed at the center of one of the little courtyard areas. Lucifer followed, and for a moment they joined the handful of students glancing at the fliers for guitar lessons and tutoring.  

John noticed three kids gathered at the other end of the board and he surreptitiously moved to stand behind them. Their attention was focused on a flyer for a candlelight vigil that night, in honor of Julie Smith and David Brooke.  

"Our two victims," Lucifer murmured to John. 

The girl in front of John glanced back at them then, her expression registering wary confusion.  

John gave her a nod and a light smile. "Sorry, don't mean to interrupt – we're detectives with the LAPD." He took his wallet out, then held up a card which, to Lucifer at least, appeared to be a regular playing card. The girl very clearly saw something else as she straightened and nudged her friends to get their attention. John gave a little wave, then jerked his head to indicate the flyer. "You lot friends with these two?" 

"We weren't super close," said the first girl. "But we all had classes with them and stuff. And they used to hang out with this one guy on my floor." 

"What's this lad's name?" John asked.  

"Evan Mayer," the girl said. "He's not going to be in trouble is he? I know they were all into some kind of weird shit but they were all pretty nice people..." 

Lucifer leaned in a little. "What sort of 'weird shit' are we talking about?" 

"Oh...just like, you know pagan things. Rituals and tarot cards and doing summonings under the full moon," she said. "Not super unusual but, like, kinda weird." 

"Right," John said, exchanging a glance with Lucifer. "Well, we'll just want to have a word with Mr. Mayer..." He looked at the girl again, then at the other two, taking in their worried expressions. College could be bad enough, worse even when you had to cope with something like this. John sighed. "Death isn't an easy thing to deal with," he said. "Even if it's just someone you saw in class or in passing. It leaves a great big void where there used to be a person. But I promise we'll get justice for your friends." 

The first girl nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, detectives." 

John turned then, motioning for Lucifer to walk with him back to the parking lot. Once they were far enough from the children, Lucifer shot John a sideways grin. "Why, John, I didn't realize you could be so tender and heartfelt." 

"Hm." John rolled his eyes. "I've encountered enough death in my lifetime to know what to say, even to a bunch of kids. Especially to a bunch of kids." 

"How sentimental," Lucifer said, then waved when they spotted Chloe walking towards them. 

She was shaking her head when she met them halfway across the lot. "You two can't sit tight for even just five minutes, can you?" 

"Not even a little," John replied, flashing her a cheeky grin. "Did you find anything interesting? Because we did." 

The detective scowled at him. "What did I say to you before we came here?" 

"I didn't say a word about demons, promise!" John said, making a vague cross gesture across his heart and ignoring Lucifer's scoff. "We just impersonated police officers. And spoke to some charming young folks who gave us the name of one of our victims' mutual friends: Evan -"  

"- Mayer," Chloe finished for him. "I know. I was just about to go have a word with him." 

"Excellent," Lucifer cut in. "So were we." 

There was a moment when it looked like Chloe was about to refuse, then she thought better of it and slowly shook her head before she gestured in the direction of the dormitories and started walking. 

*** 

Evan Mayer lived in a ubiquitous three-story dormitory with cinder block walls and linoleum floors. Students coming and going cast looks at the odd trio of John, Lucifer and Chloe as they made their way down the hall towards Evan's room, which had a construction paper name tag on it reading "E. Mayer" and "T. Stevens." 

Chloe knocked, calling out, "Evan Mayer?" 

There were shuffling sounds from inside, and a moment later the door opened revealing a confused looking boy of around nineteen or twenty, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He looked startled and more than a little worried. "...Yeah?" 

"Det. Chloe Decker, LAPD," Chloe said, holding up her badge for him to see. "Mind if my colleagues and I ask you a few questions?" 

Grinning, Lucifer turned to John to mouth, " _Colleagues!"_  

John just rolled his eyes, then followed Chloe inside. Evan's room was small, with two loft beds and desks below them, all of it existing in a state somewhere between clutter and order. John took a few steps in a slow circle, glancing around the room, at Evan's desk, at the piles of clothes... 

Evan closed the door and turned, then surprised them all by saying, "I know you're lying, by the way." 

"Excuse me?" Chloe said, frowning. 

Leaning against the wall next to the door, Evan pointed at John.  "You're John Constantine. You're not a detective and you're definitely not with the LAPD." 

"Oh?" John said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a half smile as he folded his arms over his chest. "And how d'you know that, lad?"  

"Spent a few months in London last summer with my cousin," Evan said. "He had a friend who had a friend who had a picture of him and you in his living room from like five years ago. I think he was a little in love with you or something." 

A crease formed between John's eyebrows. "Hope he got over that quickly." 

"He told me all about you and the Newcastle Crew and everything," Evan said.  

"Well, Evan," John said slowly. "I may not be with the LAPD but my friend Det. Decker here is, and I'm helping her out with this one. _And_ , if you know who I am, then you know what that means." 

"Constantine," Chloe said warningly. She turned to Evan. "So you're into this whole occult scene? Is that what Julie and David were into as well?" 

Evan fidgeted and looked down, shrugging. He rubbed his nose with one hand, pointedly avoiding anyone's gaze. "I don't know. I don't know anything about what happened to them." 

"What about a black notebook with a silver pentagram on the cover?" Chloe pressed. "It might have belonged to David. You know anything about that?" 

Evan shook his head.  

Chloe sighed, then took out one of her cards and held it out to him. "Well, if you do remember anything, you can give me a call. We're going to catch whoever did this to your friends, but it would really help if you could work with us."  

Taking the card, Evan nodded.  

Sighing again, Chloe started towards the door. Lucifer followed, but John lingered. When the other two glanced back at him, he held up a hand. "Just give us a moment, I'd like to have another word with Evan..."  

"We'll be right outside," Chloe said, stepping into the hall and tugging Lucifer after her. 

When the door closed again, John pointed with two fingers at the stack of books tucked way under Evan's desk. "Those don't look like standard textbooks to me," John said. "And something tells me it's not your porno collection either." 

"Julie and Dave got into some shit, didn't they?" Evan said quietly, wrapping his arms around himself.  

"I don't think they were the only ones," John said, gazing at him. "I think you're on that list as well. And I think you need to tell us anyone else who's involved because otherwise they're all going the same way that Julie and David did." 

Evan ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a shaky breath, his brow furrowed. When John offered him a cigarette he looked surprised. "I...I can't smoke in here..." 

"One for the road then," John said. "You look like you could use it. And another bit of friendly advice; burn those books. Get yourself as _un_ -involved as possible before it's too late." 

Evan looked like he wanted to reply, but before he could have a chance the door swung open and Chloe stuck her head in. She looked at John. "I just got a call, I have to go." 

"Did they find another one?" John asked. 

Chloe gave him a look. "I'm not leaving you here unsupervised, come on." 

"Yeah." John pointed at Evan. "Remember what I said, and for fuck's sake _watch yourself_." Leaving Evan still weakly leaning against the side of his bed, John followed Chloe out into the hall where Lucifer was waiting, then the three of them left the dorm together, though Chloe was still shooting John suspicious looks.  

 "I've told you this once," Lucifer said after the fourth or fifth sideways glance. "and I'll keep saying it; we gave you the answers, Detective, you're just refusing to believe them." 

*** 

The latest victim – a girl identified as Rachel McIntosh – had been laid out in the morgue when they arrived. The Medical Examiner seemed a little surprised to see Chloe's two companions, but he didn't protest too much about letting them see the body.  

In death the lacerations across the girl's arms and torso looked even more severe, perhaps simply because they contrasted so much with the drained grayness of her skin. John clicked his tongue as Chloe looked her over, shaking his head and cursing softly under his breath. Chloe herself was quiet, expression grim. 

It was Lucifer who broke the silence first with a quiet exclamation of, "Bloody hell, I _know_ her." 

"What?" Chloe looked up. "How?" 

"She was a server at Lux last summer," Lucifer said. "I remember because she was asking if she could be hired on full time she...." His voice trailed off, expression turning calculating. Both he and John seemed to reach the same conclusion at once, and Lucifer was already starting towards the door as he said, "Chloe, my dear, it's been lovely but I think we need to dash..." 

"Why what's - " Chloe stopped herself and waved her hands. "You know what, nevermind. Go. I'll see you later." 

Lucifer was already halfway out the door, John close on his heels. As they sped down the hallway Lucifer slowed only long enough to exchange a tight look with John, his face showing a mixture of worry and anger. 

*** 

"No, it's not that something _might_ be wrong, something _is definitely_ wrong," Lucifer said as he and John jumped out of his car, which he had parked around back of the club in a narrow, dingy alley. "I don't believe in coincidences like this one." 

John nodded. "Dear old Dad doesn't like to play at dice and all that..." 

"That saying is bullshit," Lucifer said. "My father loves chaos. It's one of his finest creations, he just doesn't like to admit – ah..." He held out a hand to stop John, then pointed. 

The back door to Lux stood slightly ajar, a crate of empty bottles sitting just outside it. John could tell by Lucifer's sudden wariness that this was not a normal occurance. Still, as they crept into the still and silent storage room just inside he did keep expecting Maze to pop out and start laughing at them for being so ridiculous. Or perhaps that was simply a vain, fleeting wish. 

The door leading from storage to the club itself was also open a crack and Lucifer leaned towards it just as there came a loud crash from the other side. Stepping up close to Lucifer, close enough to smell his cologne but not to see through the door, John breathed, "What is it?" 

Lucifer let out a low grunt. "It is exactly who we thought it would be." 

Another crash. John frowned, but before he could stop him, Lucifer threw the door open and strode out into the club, shouting as he did, "Calibraxis, you great flaming turd of a demon! Why don't you stop fucking up my shit and come pick on someone your own fucking size, you bastard?!" 


	3. Hellbent

“Well this is all so unnecessarily dramatic,” said the man standing in the middle of the room. He looked like the sort of man that no one would have cast a second glance at if he was walking down the street, which meant that Calibraxis had cashed in on some poor soul’s deal and taken his body for a spin. “Then again, Lucifer, unnecessarily dramatic was always your style, wasn’t it?” 

Lucifer strode further into the main room of Lux. Maze was actually standing on top of the bar, knives in hand, a sneer on her face, but she appeared relatively unharmed. Physically, that is. Judging from the look on her face her ego may have taken a bruising.  

Returning his gaze to the other demon in the room, Lucifer asked, “What do you want, Calibraxis?” 

Calibraxis snorted. “I can’t just drop in to say hello? No, I suppose not.” Whatever color his vessel’s eyes had been in life, they were now a burning, sulfurous yellow and flicked to the door again as John stepped through it. “And you just had to bring a smoking gun to a knife fight, didn’t you?” 

“Cheers, mate, how’s it going?” John said, moving to lean against the bar.   

Lucifer gestured. “What, him? He’s just a little pet project, side indulgence, you know how it goes…” 

“Do not try to play this off,” Calibraxis hissed. “John Constantine is never just ‘a little’ anything.” 

“Oh, now I’m flattered,” John said while lifting himself up with a little bit of awkwardness to sit atop the bar next to Maze. Folding his hands in his lap, he kicked his feet a little and said, “What’re you here for, Cali? Come to drag me to Hell?” 

Calibraxis shifted his grip on what turned out to be two small but wicked looking curved blades. He rolled his shoulders and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, that’s about the long and short of it.” 

“I don’t think so,” Lucifer said. “That isn’t how that works.” 

“And you aren’t the king anymore, Morningstar,” Calibraxis hissed. “In fact the other part of my job is to make sure you never see the infernal throne again. The First of the Fallen sends his regards, by the way.” 

At first Lucifer did not move, but his eyes flared with a glow like burning coals. “Tell him to go fuck himself,” he said, then threw something—a knife, John guessed, though where he’d gotten it was a mystery—at Calibraxis. Laughing, the demon knocked the weapon away before lunging forward with a cry sharp enough to make John wince and cover his ears. 

Maze sprang silently off the bar, landing in the fray. A moment later there was a blinding flash of light and a strange airy _fwoom_ ; and though no fire was visible, a surge of heat came a little too close for John’s liking and he flipped over behind the bar, crouching down. 

“Alright, _think_ , old son,” he muttered to himself, chancing a peek over the bar at the three figures fighting in the middle of the room. “This is going to be the longest bloody stalemate in history…” It was true, of course; Lucifer was Lucifer, and Calibraxis and Maze were fighters, damned good ones at that. It would be a while before anyone got the upper hand. 

Calibraxis sent Maze crashing through two large tables. John sighed heavily and took his coat off, draping it over the bar and loosening his tie. Then he began to carefully but quickly examine the assortment of alcohol lined up on the shelves behind him, stopping only when he found a bottle of Everclear tucked carefully in with the vodkas.  

“Cheers,” John said, chuckling as he picked it up. He silently thanked Lucifer’s disregard for such petty things as human sales restrictions as he hefted the bottle in one hand, feeling for his lighter with the other.  

Casually, John sauntered out from behind the bar. Calibraxis didn’t notice him until he was halfway across the room, then the demon turned with a low laugh. “Decided to come play with the big boys, Constantine? It’s about fucking time.” 

“Luci,” John called. “On my signal I need you to give me a good old fashioned holy fire blessing.” 

Instead Lucifer gave him a confused scowl. “ _What_?” 

“You might’ve fallen but you can still do the blessing,” John said. “Just trust me on that!” 

“Holy fire is nothing to me,” Calbraxis said, though he did hesitate for a moment.  

“Shut up,” John told him. “Lucifer, can you do that?” 

Lucifer gave a short sigh but nodded, sidestepping closer to him. “What’s the signal?”

“This,” John said, before taking a large swig from the bottle in his hand and flicking on his lighter. He blew a spray of the Everclear in Calibraxis’ direction, the lighter causing it to burst in to flames, and a second later Lucifer shouted something in Enochian that made the flames turn from yellow and orange to blue and white.  

The makeshift holy fire didn’t consume Calibraxis but it did very clearly hurt him. Letting out an inhuman howl he lifted his hands as though trying to brush the flames away. In that moment John lunged forward and grabbed onto Calbraxis’ arm. 

Calibraxis, eyes shining red, snarled and tried to shake him off. He still had one of his knives and began haphazardly slashing, but John hung on, muttering low and steady under his breath. The longer he did, the more frantic Calibraxis’ movements became. The smell of sulfur filled the room. 

Then John let go, falling backwards onto the floor. Cursing and screaming, Calibraxis threw his knife at John, but his body was already beginning to glow like a red-hot ember from within. He got out one last howl before falling in a pile of ash to the floor.  

“Well that was convenient,” Maze said, sounding surprised.  

“Maybe,” Lucifer said. He looked at the pile of ash that had been Calibraxis, then cursed. “Damn it. John?!” 

John wheezed and tried to sit up. “ ‘m fine.” 

“You’re very clearly _not_ ,” Lucifer said, walking over to him and crouching down. “You’ve got a knife in your side.” 

“Had worse,” John replied, looking down. That may or may not have been true. The knife wasn’t the only wound Calibraxis had managed to get in on him, and his shirt was quickly turning red while his complexion got paler. “S-still,” he managed. “Banished that bastard for a while, should buy…buy us some time….” 

Maze had joined them by then, looking down with raised eyebrows. “I don’t think humans are supposed to lose that much blood.” 

“Get us a first aid kit, will you love?” John said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be f-fine.” 

“You need a bloody hospital, John,” Lucifer said. 

Maze stared at him. “ _Really_?” 

“Really.” Lucifer bent over to help John to his feet. “The car’s parked out back, Maze, could you put some towels down on the back seat?”  

*** 

John guessed that the doctors working on him had seen far worse. Still, he attracted more than a few strange looks when he and Lucifer stumbled into the ER, and continued to as the doctors patched him up and put him on an IV. They tried to get the story out of him as they were no doubt required to do, but John kept his lips shut and let them piece it together for themselves.  

After he was done getting an outrageous number of stitches, John was at least put in a room with an empty bed at the other end.  

Lucifer showed up five minutes later. “I considered running across the street to the liquor store to get you a ‘get well’ present,” he said, dropping into the chair next to John’s bed. “But I wasn’t sure if alcohol was what you needed right now.” 

“That’s never even a question, I always need alcohol,” John said, giving his IV drip a reproachful scowl. “What _is_ a question is what happened to the good old days when you could smoke in these places.” 

“Smoking will kill you, you know,” Lucifer said, eyes sparkling in amusement. 

“Nah, not me,” John replied. “Something else will get me first.” 

Lucifer leaned back in his chair, elbows on the arm rests, fingers steepled. “How many stitches did you get?” 

“Six-hundred and sixty-six.” 

“Cute.” 

John rubbed his nose and shrugged. “Dunno. Wasn’t paying attention. They’ve got me on a nice cocktail of drugs which is the only reason I can forgive you not bringing me a bottle.” 

“How long do we have before Calibraxis comes back?” Lucifer asked then. 

“That, my friend, is up in the air,” John said. “Depends on a lot of things. My guess is that he’ll be back sooner rather than later, and he’ll be pissed. Demons are a bit like bears, if you haven’t noticed; better kill them in one shot or they just come back angrier than before.” 

Lucifer’s phone buzzed in his pocket once, then twice. He sighed and checked it, then gave John a look. “It’s Maze. Wondering what’s taking me so long.” 

“Better get your infernal ass out of here then, hadn’t you,” John said, then snapped his fingers when Lucifer started to get to his feet. “Oy. Bring me back some clean clothes in the morning though, will ya? And me coat.” 

“Anything else, Lord Constantine?” Lucifer said, raising an eyebrow.  

“Packet of smokes and the shinbone of an archbishop.”  

Lucifer started backing towards the door, laughing softly. “Any particular archbishop?”  

“Surprise me,” John said, cracking a drowsy grin. “See ya, Morningstar.” 

*** 

He slept, as much as anyone could sleep in a hospital. A nurse with flaming red hair woke him at one point to check his vitals, and he did vaguely recall eating dinner (or something the hospital insisted on calling dinner), but for most of the evening and night John drifted in and out of a drugged sleep, glad at least that the stitches weren’t hurting too badly.  

Then he woke to a silence that was just a little too pervasive. Turning his head, John saw it was just past two a.m. according to the clock on the wall. Light filtered in from the streetlamp outside, and from the door to the hall that was cracked open. The sounds of the hospital were, however, nonexistent.  

John swore softly and pushed himself up into more of a sitting position. That was when he saw the figure standing by the window. “Wonderful…” he muttered, wincing as he leaned over to turn on the light. He looked at the figure again. “ _Wonderful_.” 

“John Constantine,” said the figure, walking over to stand at the end of his bed. “My name is Amenadiel, and I am a—” 

“Messenger of the lord, servant of heaven, soldier in the eternal holy armies of God, I get it, mate,” John said, looking him up and down. “You’re not my first angel.” 

Amenadiel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I am _well_ aware of that. And believe me, I’m not here because I wanted to be. I’m here because the First of the Fallen is acting on a plan that we cannot let succeed.” 

“You mean dragging me to Hell and slicing old Luci to ribbons?” 

“Essentially, yes,” Amenadiel said. “His greatest fear right now is that Lucifer will come to retake his throne in Hell. He knows that Heaven _wants_ Lucifer to retake his throne in Hell and so he decided to act and make sure that does not happen.” 

Fighting hard against the urge to scratch at the bandages on his side, John settled for pressing his hand to them with a hiss. He cocked his head at the angel. “And how do I fit into that?” 

“You are a bonus. You know he wants your soul.” 

“He knows he’d better get in line.” 

Amenadiel leaned on the footboard of the bed, his eyes seeming to glow eerily in the dim light of the room. “I know you’ve grown…close to Lucifer recently. We all know. He likes you, for whatever reason…” 

“Oh I could tell you the reason,” John said with a smirk. “But I’d hate to ruin your innocence there, angel. I can give you a hint though, it has something to do with this thing I can do with my—what?”  

Amenadiel did not look amused. “Think, Constantine, how much it would help to have a king of Hell who actually likes you.” 

“Aw, does old Luci _like_ me?” John asked, putting a hand to his chest. “Did he say that? You have to tell me his exact words.”  He lifted his hand and pretended to fan himself. “Ooh, do you suppose he _like_ likes me?” 

“Silence.” Amenadiel glared at him. “I don’t have time for this.” 

John pursed his lips. “Look, mate, if you’re here to ask me to stab Morningstar in the back you’re wasting your time.” 

“You’re a fool if you actually trust him,” Amenadiel said. “When the First of the Fallen starts getting to him a little too much, what do you think would stop Lucifer from offering you up in exchange for being left alone? That is why he came here, after all. To live a quiet life.”  

“Then what _do_ you want?” John asked.  

“We want you to get him back in Hell,” Amenadiel said. His lips curled back in a slightly un-angelic sneer. “You do have a special talent for sending people there.” 

John scowled. “Fucking terrible way to get someone’s help, featherbrains. What’s in it for me?” 

Amenadiel walked over to stand directly next to John. He leaned over then reached down, sliding his hands under John’s shirt to rest over the bandages wrapped around his waist and ribs. John’s eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to say something, but before he could a sudden warmth spread along his body, surging out from where the angel’s hands rested to the very tips of his fingers and toes. Glancing down John saw one of the uncovered cuts on his arm fade to nothing more than a slight pink line. 

When he was finished, Amenadiel leaned in to whisper in his ear; “Absolution, John Constantine. We offer you complete and total absolution.” 

 

 

 

 


	4. Devil May Care

When Lucifer returned to the hospital the following morning with a change of clothes for John he found him sitting up in bed, dully flicking through the television channels but looking on the whole much better than he had the night before. John turned the TV off when Lucifer entered, tossing the remote down. “Well well, good morning, Morningstar.”

“Aren’t you looking all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today,” Lucifer said, laying the clothes (trench coat and all) on the bed. “When are they going to let you out of here?”

John swung his legs out from under the blanket and stood up. “Soon as I can get my trousers on.”

Lucifer folded his arms and watched John pick up the clothes. “How’s that knife wound?”

“Peachy keen.” John flashed him a smile. “Doesn’t even twinge. Now d’you mind?” He nodded towards the door. “I’ll change then we can go.”

“Since when do you care if I see you without your clothes on?” Lucifer asked. “Bit late for that, isn’t it?” He looked John up and down, but for once in the history of the medical world, the hospital gown revealed nothing. “What did you do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” John said. “Now step into the hall, will ya?”

Lucifer obliged, but not before casting John a deeply suspicious look.

***

Maze didn’t look the least bit surprised to see either of them when they entered Lux twenty minutes later. The mess from the night before had somehow been cleaned, the furniture and fixtures returned to their exact previous state. Still, she spared John a passing grimace, then to Lucifer said, “Detective Decker stopped by while you were gone. She said she’d try calling you later, something about—”

“Not now, Maze,” Lucifer said, waving one hand at her.

“Excuse me?” she snapped, scowling.

Lucifer ignored her, instead reaching over to grab John’s arm and prevent him from taking a seat at the bar. “Office. Now.”

John met Maze’s eyes and gave her a ‘well he’s in a right mood isn’t he?’ kind of look before allowing himself to be dragged back into Lucifer’s office. He closed the door behind them, then faced Lucifer, spreading his hands questioningly.

“Take your shirt off,” Lucifer said.

“Why?” John asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I just got outta the hospital, you should give me a chance to catch me breath, right?”

Lucifer loomed over him for a moment. “Take your shirt off, John.”

“All right, all right.” John begrudgingly loosened his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt. At Lucifer’s continued cold silence he tugged his undershirt off over his head as well then held out his arms again. “Happy?”

“No,” Lucifer said. He reached out and pulled the gauze pad off John’s side, then clicked his tongue.

“Yow!” John hit his arm. “Bloody hell, man. Don’t just—Fine, you want to play doctor?” He proceeded to remove the rest of the bandages. “There, happy? It’s a fucking miracle, I’m all healed up. A pint to whoever can guess how—because it’s not like I do _magic_ or anythin’.”

Lucifer looked anything but amused. He slowly cocked his head to one side. “A healing spell of that strength would have taken energy I know you did not have. What did you do?”

John clenched his jaw, staring stonily back at him.

Lucifer shoved John against the wall, one hand tight in his hair to hold him in place. Leaning in close he inhaled sharply and hissed, “I can _smell_ an angel on you, John. What the fuck did you do?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” John growled. He grabbed Lucifer’s arm, digging his fingers into his skin. After a moment he said, “Friend of yours stopped by to visit me. Tall, dark, handsome, big shining wings—Amenadiel?”

Lucifer stepped back, looking furious. “What did he want?”

“What d’you think he wanted?” John said. “He offered me a pretty damn high payment for doing a little footwork.”

“How high, exactly?”

“High as you can go. Clean slate, total and complete absolution of my sordid soul.” John sneered at him a little. “You’re losing your place as the king of temptation, Luci. I have to admit it’s the most appealing offer I’ve had in while.”

Lucifer let out an angry grunt. He turned and leaned on the desk, his back to John. “You’re an even bigger fool that I thought you were if you took that deal.”

“Aah, give me some credit here,” John said. He walked over to stand next to Lucifer. “You still shouldn’t trust me though.”

“I don’t,” Lucifer said, turning his head to look up at him. “Doesn’t mean I would take betrayal any less seriously.”

John chuckled, reaching out, though Lucifer grabbed his wrist before he could touch him.

“I mean it,” Lucifer said. He straightened, pulling John a little closer. “Whatever Amenadiel asked you to do to me, if you do it, know this; no amount of absolution will be able to save you.”

Again John laughed, low in the back of his throat. He tried to twist his arm out of Lucifer’s grasp, but found himself held fast. “Now that’s the kind of talk that gets me all tingly.”

“You’re such a masochist,” Lucifer breathed.

“Sometimes,” John said. He pressed closer, smirking when he leaned in to brush his lips against the other man’s and Lucifer did not pull away. “All that rough handling _has_ got me a bit hard though, if you hadn’t noticed,” he added gruffly.

Lucifer kissed him—or tried to bite him, the intent was a bit unclear—letting go of John’s hand to turn him and shove his back against the wall again. There was a decided amount of frustration in his movements as he reached between them to fumble with John’s belt.

Grazing his teeth against John’s throat he hissed, “You smell like Heaven.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard that one before,” John said, choking back a groan. “Not from someone reaching for my cock, that’s for sure…”

Lucifer looked at him, eyes flashing. “It’s not a compliment.” He moved back a little, sliding his hand into John’s trousers to begin stroking him. When John reached out to fumble with Lucifer’s belt, Lucifer grabbed his hair, tugging a little as he growled, “Don’t.”

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” John grunted. He settled for grabbing the front of Lucifer’s shirt, letting his eyes close as the heat and tension began to build in his gut. It took only a few more strokes to finish him, his body arching against Lucifer’s as he spilled over his hand and let out a sharp moan of “ _Fuck_ me…”

Then Lucifer pulled back and walked over to sit down behind his desk. Blearily John rubbed his eyes and stared at him. Lucifer grabbed a tissue to wipe his hand off and said without looking up, “Get out.”

“Come again?” John said, blinking and straightening up.

“I said get out. Clean yourself up,” Lucifer tossed the box of tissues at him, “and get out.”

John scowled but wiped himself off and tucked himself back into his trousers, then reached for his discarded shirts. “What, need some privacy so you can jerk off while thinking about devouring my soul?”

“Something like that,” Lucifer sneered. “Mostly I don’t want to look at your face anymore.”

John scoffed and pulled his undershirt on, draping his button-down over one arm before turning to open the door. At the last moment he paused and looked over his shoulder to snap, “I didn’t say _yes_ to him, you pompous ass.”

Lucifer said nothing. He folded his hands, waiting patiently until the door had slammed shut. Then he closed his eyes and let out a long, rough groan of frustration.

***

If ever anyone was to get an award for the best shit-eating grin, it would be Maze when Lucifer finally came out of the office again. She was drying glasses at the bar and had very obviously seen John make his exit. When she spotted Lucifer she managed an almost sincere, “Aw, do you want to talk about it?”

“I’ll get over it,” Lucifer said. “He’s a fucking asshole.”

“Ahuh.” Maze set a glass down and draped the towel over her shoulder. “What’d he do?”

“Nothing, he claims. Amenadiel tried to make a deal with him. John says he refused, even though he was offered a heavenly pardon from all his sins.”

Mazikeen raised her eyebrows and let out a low whistle. “And do you believe him?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Lucifer admitted, rubbing his face and reaching for one of the bottles lined up on the bar.

***

Even so close to the college campus, the bar John found himself in that afternoon was surprisingly deserted. He figured it would be filling up later with students just done with their exams and looking for a way to unwind. As of now it was just him at the bar nursing a pint, and a few small pairs scattered at the various tables.

“Mr. Constantine?”

“Evan.” John turned with a smile and motioned for Evan Mayer to join him. “Have a seat.” He watched the young man sit down slowly in the chair next to him, taking in the shadows under his eyes, the way he clenched his fists as he rested his hands on the bar. John frowned a little. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

“A bunch of my friends just died,” Evan said bitterly. “Of course I haven’t been sleeping.” He caught the bartender’s eye. “Dry martini.”

John arched an eyebrow and shook his head, tapping his fingers on the bar. “Look, son, I need you to tell me what you and your mates were getting up to. No beating around the bush this time. My suspicions about one thing were just confirmed for me and there’s something pretty nasty headed your way if you don’t let me help.”

Evan was quiet for a bit, and when his drink came he ran his fingers around the base of the glass before saying, “Liminal spaces. I was reading about how places like airports and train stations and busy intersections, all those people coming and going, they affect the energy of a space. We wanted to see if that was true.”

“Bloody hell,” John said, his brow furrowing. “You were messing around with crossroads magic in the LA public transit system? What’s wrong with you?!”

“We didn’t know!” Evan protested, his eyes wide.

“You claim you did some reading and yet you clearly missed the part that talked about how the busier a liminal space is, the thinner the threshold between worlds,” John said. “In a busy crossroads the fabric of our world is worn thin from all those feet passing over it…you and your friends tore a hole right in it and let one of Hell’s big and nasties waltz right through.”

Evan looked like he was close to tears. He took a shuddering breath and managed to still the shaking of his hand enough to raise the glass to his lips and take a long drink. Setting the glass down again he wiped his mouth and looked at John with wide eyes. “What do I _do_?”

John sighed. He rubbed his face and cracked his neck, then reached for one of the bar napkins, taking a pen out of his pocket. “What I need you to do,” he said while starting to sketch some symbols on the napkin, “is go to your local butcher shop and buy some pig’s blood. Then use it to draw _this_ sigil on the inside of your door and _this_ one on your chest—hopefully they’ll protect you enough until I can un-fuck what you did.”

“What do you mean ‘hopefully’?” Evan asked, though he took the napkin and put it in his pocket.

“There’s only two certainties in life, lad; death and chaos.” John reached out and patted his arm. “You just gotta hang in there.”

Evan nodded, but he looked far from convinced.

***

It was later that night when John made his way back to Lux, and the club was full with a line out the door (a quick trick that barely counted as magic got him past that). He’d had a pint with Evan, and then a few more drinks after that and wasn’t exactly what one could describe as ‘fully sober,’ but John thought he was managing well enough. He navigated his way through the crowd to the bar where he spotted Maze pouring a row of shots for some fashionably dressed individuals that John recognized from some magazine cover or other.

Maze glanced up and spotted John, her lips curling into a smirk. “I don’t think he wants to see you right now,” she called.

“Too bad,” John called back. “I know how to deal with our buddy Calibraxis.”

“Do you?” Maze finished with the drinks and walked over to him. “You know, you’re both absolutely pathetic. Lucifer Morningstar and John Constantine fighting like a pair of high school boyfriends? It’s embarrassing.”

John laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, love, out of all the situations I’ve found myself in this is definitely one of the strangest. But there’s a bigger problem that needs dealing with, so just tell him I’m here, will you? Please?”

“Tell him yourself,” Maze said, jerking her chin to indicate someone behind John before she turned and sidled off.

Lucifer, unsurprisingly, looked less than pleased to see John. He folded his arms over his chest and raised one eyebrow. “Did you miss the part where I said I don’t want to look at your face?”

“Then turn the other direction,” John said. “This is important. I got a list of the train and bus stations where Evan and his friends were performing crossroads rituals. Turns out he read something online about liminal spaces and decided the best way to learn more would be to mess with the fabric of reality.”

“I’m listening,” Lucifer said.

“So…” John gestured with one hand. “Tomorrow we go around and close up all the tears. That’s easy enough. And then if Calibraxis is still on the other side—great, we don’t have to worry. If he’s still on this side we just need to perform another banishing ritual and he’ll go right back to Hell.”

Lucifer leaned forward, one hand on the bar. “And then what? You think the First of the Fallen will give up hunting me just because we send his bulldog back to him?”

“You got a better idea?”

“No.” Lucifer sighed and toyed with the cuff of his sleeve. “All right. We’ll do this. “But tomorrow. And you’re not staying the night. I’ll call you.”

John held up his hands in surrender, then pointed at Lucifer with two fingers. “You know, Miss Mazikeen thinks we’re acting like teenagers. That seems like a really stupid thing for her to be right about. You don’t have to trust me—in fact you probably shouldn’t—but this…” he gestured between them, “is going to make things a lot harder.”

“Fine.” Lucifer gave him a cold smile. “I’ll buy your story that you said no to Amenadiel, for now. So long as you understand what’ll happen if you _do_ decide to send me back downstairs.”

“You’ll eat my heart with some fava beans and a nice chianti?”

“That’s a terrible pairing, by the way,” Lucifer said, though he did laugh. “But you got the general idea.”

“Cheers.” John held his hand out, then stepped closer when Lucifer grasped it. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Morningstar.” With that he let go of Lucifer’s hand and swept past him towards the door, pausing only momentarily to glance back over his shoulder, sigh to himself and shake his head before stepping out into the warm evening.


	5. Heart and Soul

'Hellish' was often an adjective used to describe afternoon rush-hour traffic, but few people realized how accurate that would have been on this particular evening. As cars backed up in a line of red tail lights and sun glinting on metal, Lucifer himself sat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of his car and pondering the similarities between this particular stretch of LA pavement and his former domain. Beside him, John Constantine was lighting a cigarette. They had spent the better part of the day visiting each of the places Evan had listed for them, where he and his friends had been practicing their ritual, and at each stop John and Lucifer did their best to mend the tears between worlds.

All in all, it was far less exciting than it sounded.

Finally giving up hope that they would be moving anytime soon, Lucifer leaned back with a sigh. He glanced at John. "So. How would you do it?"

"Sorry?" John flicked ashes out the window. "Do what?"

"Let’s say, hypothetically if what you claim is true—Let’s say you _were_ going to get me back on the infernal throne, how would you do it?"

John snorted. "If I _was_ going to, you think I'd tell you how?"

"You just might," Lucifer said. "You're tricky that way."

"Oh, Luci, you're making me blush," John said, chuckling under his breath. He took another long drag on the cigarette. "All right. That's easy; I'd con you into it."

Lucifer gave him a bemused look. "You'd trick the devil himself?"

"Please, don't sound so skeptical, I tricked the three most powerful demons currently in Hell into not devouring my soul," John said. "I think I could manage you. Call me cocky but—"

"I do. All day every day."

"—Ta." John gave him a wide grin. "So that's it. I'd con you. Of course I could be lying about that so this whole conversation in and of itself could be a trick."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, but the traffic had begun to move once more and he was able to—gratefully—turn his attention back to the road.

***

The following morning found Lucifer knocking on Chloe's door and giving her a bright smile when she answered. "Good morning, my dear," he said, stepping past her into the house.

"Hey." Chloe looked around for a split second before closing the door and walking back into the kitchen. "No boyfriend this morning?"

Lucifer scoffed. "I've told you, he's not my boyfriend. He's a male friend. Sometimes he acts like a boy, but that's a different matter."

Chloe turned, raising an eyebrow at him, just the hint of a teasing smile playing across her face. "Did you two get in a fight?"

"You _and_ Maze, I swear..." Lucifer shook his head. "It's not got anything to do with anything, John can just be an ass most of the time…How's _your_ ex?"

"Okay that's not fair," Chloe said, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot and bringing it over to him. "That's different, and it's none of your business."

Lucifer took the cup and fixed her with an overly sweet smile. "And John is none of yours."

Chloe returned the smile. "He's potentially involved in a serial murder case with very few leads—he is very much my business."

"Our disagreement had nothing to do with the case, Detective," Lucifer said, moving to lean against the counter, cupping the mug of coffee in both hands. "We just spent a little too much time in close quarters and rubbed one another the wrong way. John's just that kind of person. Don't get me wrong, he does have his good points."

"Really?" Chloe looked skeptical. "The more you talk about this guy the harder that is for me to believe…Well, whatever floats your boat, I guess..."

"Exactly. So, you were saying, no more leads...?"

She shook her head, then let out a long, weary sigh. "Nothing. We've got dead teenagers and nowhere to go and nothing to tell their families. And I _wish_ I could say this was uncommon but...you'd be surprised how many murders go unsolved."

Lucifer's face was unreadable as he watched her. He gave a slight not. "Well. As long as no one else is dying, I suppose?"

"We can't even say that for sure," Chloe said. She reached up and rubbed her forehead with one hand. "We just haven't found any more bodies." On the counter he phone began to buzz. She held up a finger to Lucifer then grabbed the phone, walking into the other room to answer.

He waited patiently for once, sipping the coffee, pacing the kitchen area a little and pausing to glance out the window. The day outside was bright, and hot already. Hearing the murmur of Chloe's voice from the next room abruptly stop, then the sound of her footsteps, Lucifer turned. He raised his eyebrows. "Bad news?"

Chloe nodded. "It's that kid. Evan Mayer. He's missing."

"What?" Lucifer frowned, setting the cup down. "That's...John just spoke to him the day before yesterday."

"Yeah apparently he went missing yesterday around lunch—wait why was John talking to him?" Chloe asked, suspicion cutting through her initial concern.

Lucifer made a calming motion with one hand. "John didn't kidnap him, he was with me all day yesterday. Damn it." He turned away then, rubbing the back of his head. "We were too late," he murmured to himself. "He was already back."

"What?" Chloe stepped over to him. "What were you too late for?"

"Nothing." Lucifer patted her shoulder as he turned. "Look...I've got to run, all right?

Chloe held up her hands and let out a frustrated huff, but gestured to the door. "Tell your boyfriend I still don't trust him!"

"Neither do I!" Lucifer called over his shoulder. "That's why he's not my boyfriend."

***

A quick text and fifteen minutes later Lucifer was pulling up outside of the unremarkable motel where John was staying. Hopping out of the car, Lucifer spotted him sitting on a plastic chair outside one of the doors, smoking as usual and looking vaguely unamused. He got to his feet when Lucifer approached. "Well isn't this the start of a cliché..." John began.

"Don't," Lucifer said. "Evan Mayers is missing, I think we can safely say that means Calibraxis is still on this side. Or he's _back_ on this side I should say. I also think it's safe to assume that he's going to show his ugly face around here any minute looking for us."

John nodded. "So...then we fight him."

"We fight him," Lucifer agreed. He smiled, folding his arms. "Except for one little problem that might get in the way of our teamwork; I don't have a shred of trust that you won't figure out some way to send me back down to Hell afterwards. Or during."

"And what's to stop you from handing me over to Calibraxis the minute he turns up in exchange for a little peace and quiet?" John retorted. "You love to punish the sinful and I've got plenty of black marks to my name..."

Lucifer rolled his eyes and groaned. "Can you stop with the egotism for just two seconds? We have to figure out a way to work together."

"Says the devil to the con man."

"Hah." Lucifer narrowed his eyes a little. He took a deep breath, adopting an air of forced calm before he spoke again. "Lucky for you, I happen to have an idea. There's one way to make sure we play nice with each other, that is to make it so that if one of us goes down, the other one does too."

John raised an eyebrow, but he didn't look like he was refusing just yet. He shifted his weight a bit from foot to foot. "That sounds like a suicide pact to me."

"More like 'mutually assured damnation,'" Lucifer said, flashing his most winning smile. "It would work with a modified tethering ritual. We do this, and neither of us would be able to take a trip to Hell without dragging the other down with him. I don't know if it would ever wear off but, that's a bridge I'm willing to burn when I come to it."

"All right, let’s do it," John said.

Lucifer blinked. "Just like that? Here I was gearing up to fight you on this..."

"No, it sounds as good a plan as any, yeah?" John said, grinning and slapping him on the arm. "Good call. We should do it soon though, who knows when Calibraxis will rear his head again..."

"Mm," Lucifer agreed. He gazed at John intently for a moment, searching the man's face but seeing nothing. He drew back then and gestured at his car. "After you."

***

"I don't see why you have to do this here," Maze complained as she helped Lucifer move one of the tables aside to give them a clear space in the middle of the club. It was early afternoon when John and Lucifer had returned to immediately pull her from whatever she was doing to help them set up for the ritual. Straightening, she folded her arms and glared at Lucifer. "Some of us have work to do."

Lucifer smiled. "Which you can get back to after you and John take these chairs into the store room. I'm going to start drawing the circle."

"You'd better clean up before we open," Maze added, grabbing several more chairs than she appeared capable of carrying, before she headed effortlessly towards the back room with them.

John wiggled his eyebrows at Lucifer, taking off his coat and draping it over the bar, then reaching for the remaining three chairs. Ignoring the look Lucifer threw him in response, he followed Maze, whistling softly to himself.

Maze was stacking the chairs in the back corner of the store room when John came in. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Just stick those wherever there's space, I'll probably have to end up bringing them out tonight anyway..."

"Got it." John said. He looked around and set the chairs in a (mostly) empty space to his left. He looked over at Maze again—her back was to him as she bent over, shifting some boxes out of the way and muttering to herself.

John glanced around, then quickly stepped out of the room and closed the door. Before Maze would have a chance to notice, he pressed his palm against the lock plate, murmuring something. The metal glowed briefly, then faded back to cool grey. "Three...two..." John said to himself. "One-"

_Bang_.

" _CONSTANTINE_!" Mazikeen howled from the other side, her voice muffled by the heavy door.

"Just need you to sit tight, luv!" John called back. "The spell will let up in an hour or so..."

" _I'm going to rip out your spinal cord through your mouth_ — _!_ "

"Yeah yeah..." John patted the door with his hand. "Maybe use this time to get control of that temper, hm?" Flexing his hand a little, he turned and started back down the hall.

***

When he got back out to the main room he found Lucifer sketching a large circle on the floor with a piece of sidewalk chalk. Around the outer edge Lucifer began scribbling jagged runes and symbols, barely glancing up when John moved to stand over him and watch.

Once Lucifer was finished he stood up, brushing chalk dust off his hands. He looked around. “Where’s Maze?”

“Said she had something to do,” John said, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “Didn’t have time to sit around and watch us play with magic.”

“That sounds about right,” Lucifer said. He let out a breath of laughter, then beckoned to John before moving to kneel in the middle of the circle. In front of him was a copper bowl about a hand-span wide and a small knife. John eyed the two objects thoughtfully as he knelt as well, on the opposite side of the bowl facing Lucifer. “Right,” Lucifer said. “This is pretty straight forward—we combine our blood in the bowl, I say a nice little diddy in Enochian—“

“You can still speak Enochian?” John asked.

“Like an _angel_ ,” Lucifer said with a smile. “Meaning I can speak it in a way your pathetic human vocal cords never could—You’ve heard me sing, John, just because I fell doesn’t mean I lost my voice.”

John rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You start crooning out _Fever_ and the pope himself would drop his knickers—can we just get on with it?” he reached for the knife, but Lucifer swatted his hand away, wiggling a finger warningly.

Wordlessly, Lucifer picked up the blade, then gestured at John, who obligingly offered his left arm. Murmuring lowly under his breath, Lucifer drew the blade across John’s forearm, then tilted it so the blood dripped into the bowl. The droplets sizzled a little as they hit. When he’d had enough he offered John a gauze bandage, before proceeding to add his own blood in a similar manner. Then he shifted to sit crosslegged, hands resting on his knees, palms upward. Lucifer waited for John to mirror him before he began speaking the spell.

John had to admit he was surprised. And impressed. Enochian syllables sounded clunky and awkward on the human tongue—sharp and ungainly and nothing like someone would imagine the language of the angels to sound like. But when Lucifer spoke them…or sang them, or chanted them, it was impossible to describe which…they flowed. They twined through every molecule in the room and made the air hum with music.

As he continued, everything outside the circle fell into shadow. The blood in the bowl became hyper-saturated, a blinding shade of candy-apple red. Lucifer’s form seemed to quiver and shake and looking down at his own hands John found himself suddenly just a tad less corporeal than normal.

Still speaking, Lucifer dipped both hands into the bowl. Blood clung to his fingers, having taken on the consistency of honey. He brushed some over John’s lips, and under his eyes, then down the center of his face. Then he did the same to himself.

John held his breath. He straightened, waiting…waiting…there came a pause in the verse and he reached out, grabbing Lucifer’s arm.

“John—!” Lucifer hissed. He fixed John with a deep glare. “You’re going to—“

“You’ll understand, in the long run,” John said, grimacing a little as he tightened his hold on Lucifer’s arm.  “In the meantime, I’m terribly sorry about this, old son…”

“What the _fuck_ do you—”

John pulled Lucifer forward with a sharp tug, knocking over the bowl in the process. Cupping the back of Lucifer’s head with one hand he put the other against his chest and pushed—and his whole hand, all the way up past his wrist, sank into Lucifer’s flesh like he was made out of quicksand.

Their faces only a hair’s breadth apart, John kissed Lucifer lightly and whispered, “I really am sorry.” Then he yanked his hand back, pulling something out with it.

Lucifer stared at him. He gasped, wordlessly, then slumped to the floor, completely and utterly unconscious.

 


	6. Sinnerman

Lucifer woke, and there were only about thirty seconds before he started shouting. At least it was long enough for John to sit back on his heels and light a cigarette.  

"You son-of-a-whore piece of _shit,_ John Constantine! I will _end_ you, do you hear me?!" Lucifer sprang to his feet. Around him the room swayed, but he ignored it. "Hell will seem like a bloody fucking holiday compared to what I'm going to do to you, you _worthless_ scum!" He took a swing at John, who had also gotten to his feet, but John jumped back a little, just out of Lucifer's reach.  

"Just let it all out, Luci," John said, making a beckoning motion with one hand. "Just let it all _—_ _ow_ _! Fuck!_ " The next punch had hit John square in the jaw and he stumbled back, wincing.  "…all right, I deserved that." 

Lucifer glared at him, teeth clenched. He seemed to be trying to do something, but whatever it was wasn't working. Finally he threw his hands in the air in exasperation and shouted, "What did you do to me?!" 

"You know exactly what I did," John said. "But if you'll calm down for two seconds..." 

"I will _not_!" Lucifer hissed. " _Why_ did you do it?" 

John threw him a lopsided smile. "Because it's easier to seek forgiveness than to ask permission. I knew you'd say no." 

"Well of-fucking-course I would say no, you daft bastard!" Lucifer said. "Who in their right mind would say 'yes' to letting you rip their heart out of their chest?... _Stop looking so bloody pleased with yourself_."  

"Nah," said John, quickly stepping out of hitting range again. "But you need to think, Morningstar. Calm down and think because you know exactly what this means. What _can_ 't you do with your heart hidden here on earth?" 

Lucifer loomed over him, still burning with fury, lip curled. Then his expression abruptly relax and he tilted his head. "What...oh. _Oh!_ " 

"Right?" John said, nodding. "Now tell me I'm brilliant." 

"You aren't. You're an asshole and I'm still mad at you." 

There was a loud crash from the direction of the inventory room and a second later Mazikeen flew out of the hall and charged right at Constantine. Lucifer held his arm out, catching her across the chest. "Ah ah," he said. "We still have to be nice to him, it would seem. No dismemberment." 

"He _locked_ me in a _closet_ ," Maze snarled, glaring at John. Without moving her head, her eyes darted to the side, casting a not-very-concerned glance at her boss. "...what'd he do to you?" 

Lucifer let out what was no doubt intended to sound like a saddened sigh. "He stole my heart." 

Maze gaped at him, then at John, then folded her arms over her chest. "You two are _unbelievable_. I'm done. I quit; I'm going to apply for a job at that gay bar down the street." 

"No you're not, I know the owner and he's not hiring right now," Lucifer said absently. "Besides, as much as it absolutely pains me to say _—_ this probably was a much better plan, despite it being executed without my permission." 

"I'm not following," Maze said, eyes narrowed. "How is your teenage drama a good idea?" 

"It's a little more than that, for once," John said. "I literally did take his heart, and I've hidden it somewhere here. On Earth, I mean." 

Just as Lucifer had a moment ago, Maze realized after a heavy second exactly what John was saying and her anger dissipated. "Oh," she said, then looked at Lucifer in surprise. "That _is_ a good idea." 

"Right?" Lucifer said. "So long as my heart is hidden here, no force in the universe short of my father's direct intervention could drag me off the mortal plane. I can't go to Hell, even if I wanted to." 

Maze gave John a wary nod. "But how do we know he's actually hidden it and didn't just send it to Calibraxis?" 

"Call your most innocent friend and ask if I just gave her a box to hide for you," John said. 

Both Lucifer and Mazikeen gave him identical looks of bemusement. Lucifer scoffed. "I don't have any innocent friends." 

"Yes you do," John said, grinning.. "She's about three foot eleven, very outgoing, plays with barbie do _—_ " 

Lucifer punched him in the face. This time there was a sickening crunch and when John lowered his hand, blood was running freely from his nose and down his lips and chin. Lucifer's eyes blazed furiously once more. "That is fucking low, even for you. Trixie's a _child_." 

"Ahuh, dat's th'poind," John mumbled as he held his handkerchief to his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood. 

"You have ten seconds, John. And then I _will_ let Maze rip your spine out." 

John held up a finger, tipping his head back and pinching his nose. When he spoke again it was mildly clearer, "You have a wicked heart, Morningstar," he said. "Corruption is the least of what would happen to someone who came into possession of it. Corruption strong enough that any demon in a five thousand mile radius would come running. Your heart needs to be in the hands of a complete innocent, and generally that means a child." 

Lucifer did not look convinced. "And tell me," he ground out. "What happens when Calibraxis or his cronies show up at Chloe's front door?" 

"They won't," John said. "As long as Trixie has your heart, it's safe as houses. The First of the Fallen himself could be sitting on top of it _—_ wherever she hid it _—_ and he would never find it. They won't even think to look there, if they look at all." 

"You're absolutely certain?" Lucifer asked. 

"If I'm wrong, you can have _my_ heart," John said. He grinned. "I can get you a recipe for a very nice port wine reduction sauce to go with it." 

Lucifer smiled at him coldly, walking over and putting his hand on John's chest. "I love that you think that's a joke, Constantine." He tensed his hand, fingers digging in and bunching the material of John's shirt. "You're so _funny_." 

*** 

Lux was packed. To be fair, it was rarely _not_ packed. That night however proved to be one of the busier nights, though that only made Lucifer feel mildly better about having been talked into opening. Mostly he felt a strange void inside of himself. The only comparison he could make was when he first lost his wings; there was an absence, a bit of him that was no longer attached.  

Setting his drink down, he looked down the length of the bar and absently rubbed one hand over his chest. John was perched on a stool at the end, brooding over a pint. Maze was not far away, not out of any genuine concern but rather from her desire for any excuse to tear the man to ribbons. Luckily for John, Lucifer wasn't _quite_ ready to allow that yet. 

He retrieved his drink and walked over to John. "Tell me," Lucifer said, leaning against the bar next to him. "How _do_ you sleep at night? I mean, I don't think your moral compass even has a pointer anymore, let alone the capability to point anywhere near north." 

John looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I'm pretty sure we established that the minute I unbuttoned my trousers for ya. But really, are _you_ judging _me_?" 

"Judging a sinner? That _is_ what I do, yes," Lucifer said. "But mostly I'm just curious as to how you live with yourself. Genuinely curious." 

"This helps," John said, holding up his beer. "What's your point, Morningstar?" 

"Well, now I wonder, how would you react if someone did what you've done to Trixie, except to, oh, what's her name..." Lucifer snapped his fingers several times, trying to recall, "Ah. Gemma. Your niece."  

John's nostrils flared just a little and he lifted his glass to take another drink. "I'd fucking skin them alive." 

"Interesting," Lucifer said. "You're a piece of work, John Constantine." 

"Mmm, if I had a pound every time I heard that..."  

Lucifer sighed, patting his hand on the bar several times before letting out a groan that was barely audible over the thudding base of the music. "Ohhhh I hate waiting around like this." 

John snorted. "Patience is a virtue." 

"Hello, I'm Lucifer Morningstar," Lucifer said. "Nice to meet you." 

"Cute," John said, though he was chuckling. 

"Anyway, fuck virtue," Lucifer muttered into his glass as he raised it to his lips. "It never got anyone anywhere interesting." He turned to lean back against the bar so he could scan the crowd. It wasn't likely that Calibraxis would appear anytime soon, but it wasn't impossible either.  

*** 

The evening wore on, and the club did not become any less crowded. John maintained his post at the bar, waving off any interested parties and leaving only to relieve himself. It was a struggle to not take advantage of the selection of alcohol, but he knew deep down that keeping his wits about him was the best plan. Still, a little indulgence never hurt anyone, so he resorted to taking a little longer than normal to nurse a pint. 

He was coming out of the men's room sometime later when someone in the shadowy corridor grabbed his arm and said lowly, "John Constantine."  

John turned around, and his heart sank. "Evan." 

"Not quite," said the young man. He showed all his teeth in a wide smile, then used both hands to gesture at himself. "I needed a new meat-suit, thought this would be appropriate. How does he look on me?" 

"Cali." John said flatly. "Glad you decided to join the party." 

"That was a very rude thing you did, Constantine," Calibraxis said in Evan's voice. "Banishing me like that. I had to claw and fight my way back up here _—_ not everyone can just waltz out of Hell like you and dear old Lucifer can, you know." 

John sniffed and became very interested in picking dirt out from under his thumbnail. "That's some shit, mate, I feel ya, I really do." 

"Fuck you," Calibraxis said, still smiling. "If I wasn't here for a bigger prize I'd drag you down right now. Now where is dear old Morningstar?" 

"Right that way," John said, gesturing with one hand at the main room. 

Calibraxis shot him a sly grin and a wink, then turned and strode out into the crowd. Cursing under his breath, John hastily followed, mentally reviewing their (slightly less than sturdy) plan as he went. 

It was strange, following such a dangerous being through a crowd of very oblivious people who didn't give them a second's thought. John let Calibraxis lead the way through the inebriated masses and over to the bar where Lucifer and Maze were conversing. Maze saw John and nodded in their direction. 

Lucifer turned. He looked Evan Mayers' body over then snorted. "Calibraxis. Bit obvious, don’t you think?" 

"I don't do subtlety, Morningstar, you know that," Calibraxis replied. "Besides I thought it might be nice for you to look on a familiar face when I drag you down to your execution." 

"Execution you say?" Lucifer said. "Is that what his Fallenness has planned for me? Oooh how exciting. It's a pity no one can actually kill me." 

Calibraxis smiled a smile that looked entirely wrong on the face of a twenty-two-year-old college student. "No but he can have a host of hungry demons continuously devour you from the inside out for all eternity while you're suspended over a lake of molten lava." 

Lucifer looked highly offended. " _I_ came up with that one!" He cried, looking at Maze. "You were there when I thought that up, he's stealing my ideas!" 

"Maybe he's going for irony," Maze said, though her tone was flat and posture wary. 

"Let's just get this over with," Calibraxis said. He turned to Lucifer. "How difficult are you going to make this?" 

Lucifer smiled and held his hand out. "Really there's only one way to find out, hm?" 

Calibraxis frowned a little, looking down at the proffered hand. Then he looked at John, who had his hands in his pockets, and Maze, who had her elbows resting on the bar, chin in one hand. The demon seemed perfectly aware that this was a trick at the very least, but there also was not a great deal else he could do. 

"In for a penny, in for a pound of flesh," Calibraxis sneered. He reached for Lucifer's hand. 

Simultaneously, Lucifer grabbed Maze's arm and John put a hand on Lucifer's shoulder. 

The world shattered. The world only _began_ to shatter, then it froze; the human bodies around them had turned to shadows, furniture had begun to lift off the ground and break apart now it hung in the air like some strange, surrealist painting. All the colors had become less saturated, falling into the strange blue-grey shadows of a nightmare. 

The only things still moving were Lucifer, Maze, John and Calibraxis. 

"What is this?!" Calibraxis shouted. He let go of Lucifer's hand, stepping back and looking around. "What are you doing?!" 

Lucifer grinned at him. "This? This is us being stuck. You can't drag me to Hell. But we can sure send you back there." 

Calibraxis took several steps backwards, keeping all three of them in his sight, though no one made any move to attack. Maze look tense as she walked beneath the hovering mass of the bar to stand beside Lucifer. John looked, as usual, nonchalant, his hands still in the pockets of his coat. 

"Why?" Calibraxis snarled. 

"Oh," Lucifer chuckled. "You could say my heart just isn't in it." 

Calibraxis' eyes glowed red and lips curling back in a sneer. "Constantine. This is your doing." 

John puffed up a little, grinning. "Credit where credit is due, I appreciate it. And yes, for whatever reason  I felt the need to protect the devil." 

"Then I hope you're ready to die for him," Calibraxis hissed before throwing the two small blades he had been palming. They spun at John, far more controlled than any normal thrown weapon.  

John ducked out of the way at the last second, just as Mazikeen sprang at Calibraxis, her own knives in her hands and a delighted cackle escaping her lips. John jumped sideways again as Lucifer rushed forward to help.  

"Get him pinned down!" John shouted above the snarls and the sounds of demonic bodies hitting the barely corporeal floorboards. "Try not to damage the body too badly!" 

Maze looked over her shoulder at him. "No promises!" 

John took his hand out of his pocket; clutched in his fingers was a vial of holy water. He circled around the edge of the fight, watching Lucifer wrestling with Calibraxis while Maze fended off the demon's blades. The two of them did work well together, Mazikeen obviously able to understand without being told what Lucifer's plans were.  

Then all at once Lucifer got his arms around Calibraxis' shoulders. Calibraxis' knives went skittering away across the floor and Maze grabbed his legs. Calibraxis let out a shriek of fury, like nails on a chalkboard, like crows howling, like a thousand beings dying all at once. They got him to the floor, pinned down on his back, Maze sat on his legs and Lucifer held his shoulders down while he writhed and swore. 

John moved to stand over him. He held up the holy water and looked at Lucifer. "This going to hurt if it gets splashed on either of you?" 

Lucifer looked offended. "Oh _please_ , John, really?" 

"Suit yourself," John said. He opened the bottle and poured it onto Calibraxis, who immediately began to howl, this time with real pain instead of anger. Bending over him, John put his hand on Calibraxis' forehead, pushing his head back, " _Sunt mala quae libas, ipse vena bibas, vade retro_ _daemone_ _, vade retro illo..."_ And on and on, chanting out a bastardized Catholic exorcism. He wasn't sure if it would work. He wasn't sure how long it would take, but John's plan was to just keep going until something happened. 

Something did happen. Light that was somehow both shining and black at the same time issued up from cracks in the floor, cracks that grew and grew pulling everything towards them, _everything_. The world came crashing back down to reality with an unbearable sound. 

*** 

Evan Mayers let out the gasp of a drowning man finally getting a breath of air. Lucifer and Maze had let go of him the minute they realized that they were back on the floor behind the bar of Lux and no longer halfway between Earth and Hell. On the other side of the bar the club was still pulsing with life and people enjoying their evening _—_ music pounded heavy in the air with the sickly sweet smell of mixed drinks and sweat. 

John was leaning over Evan, and he let out a breath of relief when he saw the young man's own frightened eyes gazing up at him. Smiling tightly, John patted his shoulder. "You're all right, lad. You're all right." 

Lucifer meanwhile looked over his shoulder and snapped at one of his very confused looking bartenders, "Give us a bloody glass of water, will you? This poor boy fainted." 

Evan sat up a little too quickly. He grabbed John's arm. "Is it over?" He rasped.  

"Yeah," John murmured, nodding. "Yeah it's over." 

 


	7. Epilogue

Lucifer found Chloe and Trixie at home early on Saturday morning. _Very_ early morning, as Chloe was still on her first cup of coffee and Trixie was in her pajamas watching cartoons on the couch. With his usual level of disregard, Lucifer inserted himself into their otherwise quiet and unremarkable day. 

"I still don't understand why Evan Mayers just...you know, turned up," Chloe said as she handed Lucifer a cup of coffee.  

He shrugged. "The boy lost a number of his friends. You heard his statement; he was frightened and he ran away for a bit. Trauma does funny things to a person." 

"Yeah." Chloe frowned. "Still he took the news that they were putting the case on hold a lot better than I'd have thought." She was looking at Lucifer suspiciously, but he avoided her gaze. Chloe's phone ringing as broke the silence, and she went to go answer it. 

Lucifer wandered into the living room and sat down on the couch next to Trixie. He nudged her with his elbow. "I heard you have something for me." 

"Uhuh." Trixie looked up at him and grinned. "It's a surprise. He said so." 

"He?" Lucifer said, like he didn't know exactly who Trixie meant. 

Trixie nodded emphatically, then leaned in to whisper, "Is he really your boyfriend?" 

Lucifer scowled. "Excuse me? Who told you that?" 

"Mommy did. She said so." 

"Well he's _not_ ," Lucifer began, then paused to consider it, before shaking his head. "Not really." 

Trixie giggled madly and stuck her tongue out. "D'you _like_  him?" 

"Should I?" Lucifer asked blandly. "When did you meet him anyway?" 

"When he came over to talk to Mommy about work and he gave me your present." 

Lucifer straightened. "Can I have my present now?" 

"I hid it." 

"Do you remember where?" 

Trixie looked very put upon. She looked like she wanted to make him guess where she'd hidden it. 

"Trixie," Lucifer said with utmost patience. "That present is something very important to me and I would like to have it. What's it going to take? A new...doll? Chocolate cake?" 

The little girl pondered that then she leaned in again, "Did you kiss him?" 

"What?" Lucifer started at her, then huffed and said reluctantly, "Yes. Several times." 

"Why?!! Grown ups are so gross! Why'd you do that?" Trixie asked, letting out a scandalized little giggle. 

"If I tell you will you give me the box?" 

"Uhuh." 

With a great deal of effort and reluctance, Lucifer said through gritted teeth, "Because I like him." 

*** 

John couldn't stop laughing. Lucifer still looked thoroughly sour about the whole ordeal, despite the fact that he did have his heart back now and it wasn't like Trixie had gotten him to do anything too embarrassing. Still, John seemed to find the whole thing entirely hilarious. 

"Why does everyone keep thinking I would have _any_ sort of significant other?" Lucifer demanded of the room. 

"So you admitted you like me," John said, with a wide, shit-eating grin. 

Lucifer glared at him. "I might have the occasional terrible inclination but I'm not about to explain 'he's this bastard I like to fuck' to a seven-year-old." 

John started laughing again.  

"Oh shut up," Lucifer said, reaching out to push John with both hands.  

As they were in the sitting area of Lucifer's apartment, instead of putting up any sort of fight John simply fell backwards onto the couch behind him. Still chuckling, he sprawled there, cocking his head as he looked up at Lucifer and offered a challenging, "You gonna make me?" 

Lucifer was certain at this point that no matter what he did he would be proving John right. He knelt on the couch over the other man. "I just might," he said, and leaned down to kiss him, forcefully. Then he drew back a little bit and murmured, "I'm only going to ever say this to you once in your pathetically short lifespan, so please take your time to savor it _—_ Thank you." 

John snorted. "Ahuh. Very nice. But you get soft on me and I'm gonna regret letting you take your heart back." 

"Are you?" Lucifer pressed his hips forward just a little, grinding against John. "Are you really?" 

"I took your heart, not your cock, you idiot," John said, but his voice was just a little breathier and one hand found its way to the small of Lucifer's back, coaxing another thrust out of him.  

"You aren't special, you know," Lucifer breathed as he continued to move, too enraptured by the sight of John Constantine arching off the couch beneath him to worry about the fact that they hadn't even so much as unzipped their trousers. "D'you know how many people I've had on this couch alone?" 

"Whatever." John closed his eyes, lips parting a little as he murmured, "I'm a fucking delight, Morningsta- _ah-_ Morningstar." 

"Never said you weren't," Lucifer replied. He fell silent for a moment, hand scrabbling for purchase on the arm of the couch just next to John's head as he began to move just a little harder and just a little faster. "Oh,   _fuck_ _..._ just said you're not special." 

John didn't reply. He held tightly, fingers digging into Lucifer's hips as he gave a few upwards thrusts himself before letting out a shuddering groan and falling back to the couch, breathing heavily. Lucifer did not look away from John's face as he followed him over the edge a moment later. Then he simply remained there, looking down at John. 

"What?" John said, opening one eye to look at him. He guessed they had a minute or two before the hot stickiness became too unbearable. 

Slowly, Lucifer reached down and slid his hand up under John's shirt until it was resting on the bare skin of his chest. He could feel the man's heart beat, just barely beneath his fingers. Leaning in, Lucifer brushed a kiss over John's lips then murmured close to his ear, "We both know how this will end, Constantine. Not today, not tomorrow, not a year from now. This will end in Hell for both of us, with me on the throne and you on your knees facing judgment." 

"Now there's an image," John said, letting out a breath of laughter. 

"No." Lucifer looked at him. Somewhere in the depths of his dark eyes a coal-bright glow flickered into life. "You know what is coming for you down there, John. You _know_. There will be no talking or tricking or fucking your way out, I want you to understand that. I punish the sinful, John, that is what being the king of Hell entails. When I see you down there, I _will_  devour your heart for what you did, and I will make you watch. And then you will suffer for your sins for the rest of eternity. You. Are not special." 

John looked back up at him, his eyes holding just as much fire in them. He grinned, his wide, dangerous grin as he reached up to grab the back of Lucifer's head and pull him down. He bit as he kissed, hard, sinking his teeth into Lucifer's lower lip.  

Drawing back with a smile now dangerous _and_ bloodied John said, "Then I guess I'll see you in Hell, Morningstar." 

 


End file.
